PART IV: Checkmate


Maegor's Holdfast

301 AC

All was silent.

Jon Stark sat in deep reflection next to the crackling fireplace in his own private chambers within Maegor's Holdfast. Outside the square glass-paned windows above him, he could hear the distant shuffling of hundreds of pairs of feet as they were flooding back into the Great Hall.

And all the while, Jon's nerves were firing off like catapults.

What he was about to do, could be considered madness. Or perhaps even sheer stupidity.

As he watched the roaring orange and red flames lick the stone bricks in the fireplace, he wondered to himself, if he had after all inherited that touch of Targaryen madness from the Mad King. If, by chance, his Stark blood had done nothing for him…

Jon already knew his proposal… was likely to be met with some sort of initial backlash. That wasn't what he was concerned about. He'd already thought it out in his mind, knew that it would be Robert Arryn who voiced the doubts of the gathered nobility, the naysayers.

What would they say about his father? The man who died for all of them? For him?

Would these people turn their backs on him? When he was the one who was renowned throughout the realm for, against all odds, defeating yet another Blackfyre Pretender with three fire-breathing dragons?

How would they view House Stark? How would the game change if they did put him on the throne?

After countless minutes of wondering and postulating and hypothesizing, Jon Stark considered the possibility that he was, in the end, overthinking it.

What else could he do but play? The board was set in such a way that he could feasibly pull off this gambit. This wild, crazy scheme of his to put House Stark on a throne which they had historically once bent the knee.

What would he do if he pulled it off? And what in the blazes could he do with Snowfyre? Jon knew in an instant that the white dragon just outside of Queenscrown could never come to the capital… Not if Jon was to maintain his identity as Jon Stark.

Perhaps Snowfyre could go to Bear Island? The Bay of Ice was cold enough for him. He'd at least have Rhaenys, and be closer to Bronzie. Not to mention any other dragons that would be under House Mormont's jurisdiction.

You have this, came the confident voice, the one filled with Arthur's wisdom. You're not scared of failure, you're scared of succeeding, of change. If you don't do it, you'll regret it for the rest of your life.

Maybe that voice was right… Jon figured it must've been if it was coming to him at a time like this.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Jon looked at the twin doors of his chambers. "Yes?"

"My lord," Answered Jory. "The council is gathering."

Jon nearly laughed. How soon the hour had passed! Time simply couldn't wait for him, not when he'd committed both himself and his closest friends and allies to this plan of his.

He took one last long look at the fire. It crackled and popped. It had satisfied Jon just as well as the fireplace in the Lord's Tower back in Queenscrown.

Something wet and airy brushed against his hand. Jon looked over and saw the cause. A long snout coated in snow-white fur was pressing into his palm. The owner's two blood-red eyes were smiling at him. 'C'mon, you've got people to famoose.'

Jon raised an eyebrow. He patted Ghost on the head. "I'm not lying to them."

'Maybe. Guess you're just omitting the truth a little. Still, it's not like they'll wait there forever,' the direwolf seemed to say with his unwavering gaze. 'You've got this thing in the bag, now let's go.'

Jon smiled and stood up from his chair. His nerves were immediately cooled as he heard the call to action just on the other side of those doors…

Time to perform.


As he re-entered the Great Hall, Jon Stark felt that it was uncharacteristically quiet.

Before the lords had been chatting amongst themselves, and stopped when the council began to take off. Now, it was simply silent.

Some of the lords and ladies were, of course, still finding their previous seats in their own sections. Meanwhile, Jon made his way to the tall chair at the far side of the hall, just at the foot of the Iron Throne itself. He noted, as he approached, that he was the last among the Great Council to arrive.

Each step he took felt heavier than the last, but somehow, Jon found it within himself to keep moving. His heart pounded harder and harder and harder against the cage of his chest.

He felt everyone's eyes directly on him once again. Perhaps some of them even knew what he was about to do, though likely not. It was ludicrous. Outlandish. Preposterous, even.

But it had to be done. For his father, for his mother. For his brothers and sisters. For Margaery.

For his unborn child…

Jon Stark stopped before his seat, but he didn't sit down. Instead, he turned around and gazed out at the assembled nobility before him, and nearly laughed at the irony.

It's all on you, son. When I'm gone… They'll all look to you.

Had this been what his father had meant? Maybe…

"In light of the council's decisions, and of recent… events… there seems to be no actual heir. The claims of Edric Storm, along with Queen Cersei's children have been thrown out. And Lady Daenerys has declined the throne out of duty towards her family."

There was no reply. Of course, there was no reply.

Jon let out a sharp, indetectable sigh. "Seeing as there are no other possible claimants…" He paused, standing tall and resolute. "I have decided to put forth my own claim to the Iron Throne."

The response had not matched his expectations. Murmurs began to spread among the lords and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms. The Lord's Paramount (aside from Jon's allies) had actually seemed to have been caught off-guard. Lady Sansa had appeared shocked, while Lord Robert had sat forward slowly in his seat. Lady Catelyn too looked to be deep in thought.

Tywin Lannister, though, actually seemed mildly amused, yet intrigued nonetheless.

Clearly, all of them had expected Jon to elaborate. And, with renewed confidence, he decided he would do so.

"None of us should be here today." He said, looking around the room at each and every Lord Paramount, and as many of the lesser lords as he could in the audience. "The Pretender should have won. He had assembled the largest army to ever invade Westeros, had commandeered our own fleets, and had a dragon at his disposal. He had everything an invader could ask for on a bloody silver plate."

"And yet… somehow, we survived…" Jon deliberately hardened his voice. "We won. Most of you gathered here today weren't there. But for those of you who were, you know that we only defeated this Blackfyre Pretender and ended his poisonous schemes because we stood together. Not as Seven Kingdoms, but as one united… nation. A united front to weather the storm." He said. "We cast aside all accusations, all of our bitterness and differences and enmity towards one another. Northmen, Reachmen, Dornishmen, Westermen, Rivermen… all of us stood together against a madman and his ravenous cult of fire worshippers."

A round of fists hitting wood erupted from the Northern corner. Jon nearly smiled as he saw many of his brother's bannermen nod their heads in agreement.

He hadn't failed to notice the downcast gaze of Robert Arryn. That alone had reignited a small glimmer of respect from Jon. Differences and rivalries aside, it was clear that Robert Arryn was ashamed that he was not able to contribute to Jon's forces during the Siege of King's Landing, and that he had only arrived after someone else had won the battle for him.

Jon, emboldened, had continued. "They will try again. Might not be a year from now, or even a decade, but they will try again. It may not even be another Blackfyre, but it will certainly be something, or someone else. Our enemies are not in this hall, our enemies are out there…" He pointed out at the glass pane windows far above the Iron Throne, which he knew was in the direction of the Narrow Sea itself. "They will come and try to enslave your people, your children. And I do not mean to let that happen."

More fists hitting wood in agreement. There were even a few "Ayes" coming from both the Northmen and the Valemen.

"I mean to be ready for them. For all of us to stand together when it happens and fight back with everything that we have. Because that is the only way that we'll win…" He looked around the room once more. "And if ensuring the safety of our people, of our women, of our children, means that I myself must break tradition and make my own claim for the throne… then so be it."

Jon decided that now was the time to close his speech. He stepped forward with intent in his voice. "I'm not asking you to worship my gods, and I'm not forcing you into submission. I'm asking you to think of your children now… they'll never have children of their own if we don't stand together. So stand with me, now and always."

And with that, Jon turned around and sat back in his tall chair, feeling as if time couldn't move any more slowly, and waiting for what would happen next.

There were more hard knocks of encouragement coming from the Northern party. Naturally, the idea of a Stark on the Iron Throne appealed greatly to them.

But would it seem agreeable to the other six kingdoms?

Shortly after he took his seat, Robb stood up from his own. He looked at Jon and, with pride in his voice, said, "As our father's firstborn, many here would be expecting me to make this bid. But my place is in Winterfell, and as Head of House Stark, you have my support, brother. Now and always."

More cheers erupted from the Lords of the North in response. Many of them raised their own tankards and flagons, and Jon even saw a few of the Lords of the Vale do so as well.

That's one…

Jon briefly glanced at those outside of his group. Robert Arryn was deep in contemplation, listening to his mother as she whispered in his ear.

Meanwhile, Lord Tywin had shared a look with his brother, Ser Kevan. Jon wondered what that was supposed to mean.

Doran Martell rose shakily to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. He hadn't needed to wait long for the hall to fall silent.

"Lord Stark…" He began, "My brother was under your command during the Siege of King's Landing. He spoke rather highly of you and even told me of your willingness to charge into battle with your own men. I believe him." He paused. "It is no secret now that my niece is married to one of your bannermen, of course. But… I believe you've done much for my family. We, unlike many lords hailing from the Crownlands, did not believe the Pretender to truly be Aegon. He threatened to put both my people and my family to the torch. I can only express my gratitude to you for defeating him once and for all, and for avenging the memory of my sister and her son. House Martell will stand behind House Stark, now and always."

As the Prince of Dorne took his seat once again, the Northern Lords grew even more emboldened. So too had some Dornish lords rapping their own fists against their tables.

Jon recalled that, ironically enough, it was the Northmen and the Dornish who resembled each other most in that regard.

Mace Tyrell, Jon's own good-father, was the next to rise.

"Lord Stark, when I met you years ago, I knew somehow you would rise far beyond the expectations of a second-born son." Said the man. Jon didn't know if any of that was true, but he did get along with the man as well as he could. "Were your father still with us, I have no doubt he would be as proud of you as I am of my own children. And, of course, I am all the happier to welcome you at my table as my future goodson." He looked out upon the gathered nobility. "House Tyrell stands with House Stark. Now and always."

Three for three, thought Jon to himself.

Many Lords from the Reach had raised their glasses in tandem with one another. "Hail!" some of them had even said before downing their drinks. Jon noted that plenty of them had actually traveled with Garlen up the Roseroad, and had fought at the King's Gate.

Daenerys was next. "Lord Stark, I haven't known you very long… yet you treated me fairly, and with a kindness that most here certainly do not share." She didn't bother looking out at her detractors. They knew who they were. "For the longest time, I have searched for a place I might call home, and… when you allowed me to reclaim Dragonstone, I could not have been more overjoyed. Because of you, because of House Stark, my family is once again a part of something bigger. From this day forth, House Targaryen will stand behind House Stark. Now and always."

Despite not having initially been liked, it seemed that Jon's aunt had gained admirers, particularly from the Northern crowd. More cheers and nods of agreement came from the Crownlands as well. Jon's mercy towards those who betrayed Robert under the threat of Dragonfire had been well known, and his popularity had skyrocketed because of it.

Four Great Houses had pledged themselves to House Stark. Never before had such a thing happened, and yet, Jon could feel his claim was beginning to gain momentum among the gathered nobility. Almost like the changing of winds…

Jon was not terribly surprised when Balor Hightower rose from his seat and pledged his house in support of House Stark. "Now and always." He had said before retaking his seat.

Perhaps House Hightower had already worked out their decision. Jon supposed that it was possible considering that they cared more about trade than who actually sat on the throne. Regardless, Jon was more than surprised when Tywin Lannister had gotten up from his chair.

The Old Lion inspected Jon for a few long moments. Jon knew that Tywin had already figured out what was going on, and knew which way the council would ultimately lean. "Your father was one of the most disciplined men I've ever met." He said. Jon figured that was meant to be a rare compliment. "Our families have had our… disagreements in the past… and it would've been easy for you to blame us for all that has happened. Yet you did not."

"As my family's claim has been thrown out… I see no reason not to swear my allegiance to you. House Lannister will stand behind House Stark. Now and always."

Though he hadn't detected any lies in the Old Lion's speech, Jon knew that Tywin had sided with him mostly out of self-preservation. Were Robert Arryn in charge, then House Lannister would've been subjected to a witch hunt, and perhaps another war might've started. But if he sided with House Stark, then he could quietly go back to Casterly Rock with his grandchildren, and perhaps even persuade Jon to let Jaime relinquish the white cloak of the Kingsguard in the process.

If that had been the case, then Jon would let Jaime decide on that matter. But first, he had to attain the throne.

Unexpectedly, Robert Arryn had been next. Though he placed a gentle hand on his mother's shoulder before looking straight at Jon. "I do not know you well, Lord Stark. All I know is that our sires were as close as father and son…"

"I will not deny it. My mother has suggested that I bend the knee, and I know that if my father were here…" Robert Arryn paused. "He might say the same given the present circumstances. I do not know what your rule will bring, and I do not know if breaking tradition like this will bode well for my people… yet I see that the council has made its choice." He squared his shoulders. "If you will have us, House Arryn will stand behind House Stark. Now and always."

Sansa Arryn had quickly risen as well, following her brother's example. "So too will House Tully. Now and always."

And… that was that. Each of the Great Houses had pledged to him, except for House Baratheon. Yet Edric Storm couldn't vote due to his bastardy.

Though seeing as everyone else had pledged themselves to House Stark, Jon knew that the Stormlanders would ultimately vote for him as well.

Once the Arryns had retaken their seats, Jon noticed the flickering smile that hung on the corner of Olenna Tyrell's lips. She'd gotten what she wanted. It looked as if Jon would take the throne, and Margaery would be at his side.

Jon rose from his tall chair. "I thank each of you for your confidence." He said sincerely to each of them. He then looked beyond to the Lords' Vassals. "Keeping in line with proceedings, a vote will be held. Each of you may vote for or against House Stark assuming the throne." He paused meaningfully, placing extra emphasis on his next few words.

"The future of the Seven Kingdoms… now, I leave to you."